


Keep Your Face to the Sun

by KDblack



Series: Dragon Ball Collection [8]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Son Goku is actually a good dad, and the slow breakdown thereof, then life happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDblack/pseuds/KDblack
Summary: Goku is an empty sky. Gohan is the sun.
Relationships: Son Gohan & Son Goku
Series: Dragon Ball Collection [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696063
Comments: 49
Kudos: 86





	Keep Your Face to the Sun

As a baby, Gohan was so small that Goku was nervous about touching him. He knew kids. Kids were sturdy. Babies were foreign territory.

“What if I hurt him?” he asked Chi-Chi on that first day.

She snorted, too tired from battling with Gohan for hours to bother with trying to be demure and lady-like. Goku wished he'd been able to help her out more. By the end, he'd just been sitting beside her, letting her scream and do her level best to crush his fingers. “Ya won't.”

That didn't seem like enough insurance. “Do we have any senzu beans?”

“No senzu beans!” she snapped. “Just get over here already. Can't ya see he's lookin' for ya?”

On her chest, Gohan was wriggling, thick bangs falling into his face as he turned his head back and forth. Big black eyes moved around the room as his little nose twitched and flared. Chi-Chi was right. He was searching for something. Vague memories pressed in on Goku from all sides – memories of looking and looking never finding anything. Slowly, carefully, with a foreign hesitation, Goku reached out to his son.

Gohan let out a tiny, warbly squeak and grabbed Goku's finger. Or tried to, at least – his hands didn't quite reach all the way around. Warm fur wrapped around Goku's firearm as Gohan tried to drag him closer. The first thing Goku said to him was, “Careful! You're not quite big enough for that.”

Chi-Chi groaned and shoved the baby into his arms. “Say hello properly, Goku!”

“He already knows I'm here, though?”

“Just do it! It's an important part of parental bonding!”

Goku wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he didn't argue. Too busy turning the warm, squiggly shape around until he could see all of Gohan. Gohan peered back with huge eyes, hanging on with tiny claws and a tail bigger than he was. He screwed up his eyes and made a little mewling sound. Then he smiled, and something in Goku's chest went hot and tight.

Gohan didn't cry much in those early days. What he did do was make a constant little snuffling noise that made something in the back of Goku's head stand at attention. It didn't translate into words – at least not any words Goku knew – but the meanings carried through loud and clear. 

Hungry? Snuffle. 

Thirsty? Snuffle, snuffle. 

Lonely? That was the loudest and most common snuffle of all.

“Is this normal?” Chi-Chi fretted when she had enough energy back to do so. “He should be makin' more noise, right?”

“He's makin' all the noise he wants to,” Goku said, and cuddled Gohan a bit closer. That tail was wrapped around his neck now so Gohan could cling to his shoulder, but Goku still kept an arm ready to catch him. Gohan snuffled quietly into his ear, utterly relaxed, and Goku could have let him stay there forever.

Gohan was a quick learner. In a few weeks, he was crawling around on stubby little arms and legs and using his tail to cling onto furniture. Chi-Chi followed him with cushions and a book, clicking her tongue and grumbling happily about gifted children. Goku didn't stick to him the way she did – sometimes people needed space – but half his attention was trained on Gohan, always. Gohan knew it and accepted it. In the rare chance that he cried out, Goku was there instantly.

About two months after he was born, Gohan started talking. His first word, “Apple!”, was cooed from his perch on top of Goku's shoulders, directed at a big, shiny red fruit.

His second word was “Papa.”

“Yeah?” Goku said, scanning the clearing around them for someone named 'Papa.' Had Gohan been making friends? “Who you talkin' to?”

Tiny hands dug into his hair, little claws prickling along his scalp. “Papa,” Gohan repeated, pointing up at the apple. “Apple!”

It took Goku several seconds to connect the dots. When he did, he grinned brighter than he had since Grandpa had died. Gohan was such a warm child. So lively, so bright. His smile poured into Goku like hot syrup, sealing all the cracks in a shattered-glass heart, and for a moment, everything was right. 

Goku hadn't been afraid of becoming a parent, exactly. He just hadn't thought he'd be much good at it. Or even all that interested. Showed him for making assumptions. Before Gohan, no one had ever trusted Goku with all they had. Chi-Chi certainly hadn't when she'd chased after him with both fists raised, and that was part of what Goku loved about her. But it wasn't just her. Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong, Puar – there was always a sour taste somewhere, a trace of fear where it shouldn't be. Not even Kuririn had ever placed his entire fragile self into Goku's hands, like the idea that Goku could break it never crossed his mind. 

But even after he was old enough to run around on two feet and Goku had taught him how to take care of himself, Gohan looked at Goku with nothing but faith. Needed him like Goku had needed Grandpa Gohan, and that need was a senzu bean on a cramped, bloated stomach. Goku hadn't even known he was starving.

The only tiny flaw was that Chi-Chi didn't want Gohan to start training just yet. Not till he was old enough to make his decisions, which – how old was that supposed to be? Gohan was four and he could pick out his own clothes, find his own snacks, and pick his way through the mountains. Yeah, there was always an element of risk, but that was what Goku was for. The second Gohan raised his voice, he was there, always, like Grandpa had been for him.

Then Raditz arrived, and Gohan was torn from Goku's arms. Dying hurt, but seeing the trust in those eyes shatter hurt more.

At the end, when the two of them lay broken and Vegeta was a fading star, Gohan smiled at him. It wasn't the smile of the son he'd failed a year ago. This was the fragile gesture of a boy who'd lost everything, and what a small and tremulous thing it was. Gohan had gotten taller. Grown his hair out. Put on so much muscle Goku could tell his training regimen at a glance. His eyes were still black, but brittle. Cracked. All the faith had poured out.

They hugged before Gohan left for Namek. Painkillers and bandages had left Goku numb, but even if they hadn't, Gohan's touch was much too light. Like he was afraid he'd break something. 

All Goku could think was, _you should feel warmer than this._

**Author's Note:**

> I love this sad father-son duo so much.


End file.
